


Kjærest

by lauraloves



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraloves/pseuds/lauraloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little short story inspired by Vegard</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kjærest

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Ylvis-inspired story, written back in January. Enjoy :)

I would like to start by debunking a few myths about dom/sub relationships:  
1\. It’s not about debasement, depravation or degradation. My master respects me and I respect him. I trust in his decisions, but I will not hesitate to challenge him on a point I don’t agree on.  
2\. You don’t need a red room of pain…I care deeply about aesthetics and I love my surroundings to be uncluttered, yet cosy. Stark, tacky home furnishings simply aren’t conducive to an arousing environment.  
3\. …and you don’t need fancy equipment. You will never find medieval torture devices in my home. A tie or a strip of lace will suffice for restraint. With the exception of nipple clamps if my master is so inclined. Which brings me nicely to point 4.  
4\. Cable ties are not for the bedroom: they can easily over-tighten and cut off circulation in whatever appendage you are trying to restrain.  
5\. It’s not all sex, sex, sex… My master is a hard-working man, and often when he arrives home world-weary, it is my duty to ensure his comfort and happiness. This can be as simple as running him a bath, or sitting him in his favourite chair, massaging his scalp and tracing his laughter lines with my kisses

When I first met my master I had no clue to his hidden desires. He projects an image to the outside world, which is perpetuated by his deep brown eyes and mischievous grin. His ‘seduction’ techniques left much to be desired, and in the first instance I thought him to be socially awkward. However, these first impressions started to evaporate as I began to realise what a magnetic presence he held over every room he entered. The impression of innocence gave away altogether the very first time he entered my bedroom.

He was gentle at first, maybe too gentle. But maybe I awoke something that was dormant inside him. Or maybe it was always bubbling under the surface. The desire to shake off the constraints of that squeaky-clean image and to surrender to his carnal desires. I was willing and obliging. By the end of the night we were bathed in sweat and moonlight; sated for having tasted every inch of each other’s skin. Within a few short hours he had ceased to be that shy, nerdy boy I had met; he was now my kjærest, my man, my North. My master.

Perhaps I should add a point 6 here.

6\. It is not about collars and contracts. I do wear a collar, but only in the one room where he is truly king. The ring I now wear on my index finger is all I really need to remind myself to whom I belong.

The years have gone by, and we are now a family. It may be difficult for you to reconcile the idea of a dom/sub relationship with a wholesome family unit, but it works. The fact is, in many aspects of our life I am the queen. I run the household, shouldering the day-to-day responsibilities involved in raising two little ones. My master trusts me to make the decisions while he is away. It is often tiring, but I don’t resent him because I know he would be here more if he could.

When he is by my side, everything is bolder and brighter, and more colourful. Even when times are stressful, it is still preferable to the yawning chasm that exists between us when our only means of communication is a glowing screen.

When he is here, the only signal I require is a delicate arching of his brow, or the offer of his firm hand. Then, I will follow him willingly into the room where he is my master, and submit to his every whim.


End file.
